Calling Home
by GraceBe
Summary: Jessica is on a book tour and calls a special someone in Cabot Cove...


_Inspired by the following prompt: shoes_

 **Calling Home**

Jessica sighed out loud as she slumped down into the comfortable armchair. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling of her finally freed, tired feet. Kicking off her high heels after a long day of book signings and interviews with noisy reporters was a welcome relief. With closed eyes she contemplated a hot bath to relax the aching muscles of her back, neck, and wrist, but she came to realize that she was too tired for such an undertaking. It was after eleven o'clock and in less than twelve hours she had to give a speech in the university of Chicago Library. She was in need of sleep and a shower in the morning had to the trick. This was her sixth town in eight days and there were more to come.

A few years ago the prospect of chasing the country like this had scared her, but she had grown accustomed to it, even enjoyed it. She didn't miss Cabot Cove as much as she used to, and therefore she enjoyed coming home more than ever. Cabot Cove was home. Cabot Cove was the sea, the sound of waves crashing the shore, the salt in the air, and all the familiar faces that treated her like an equal. Cabot Cove was the place where she wore comfortable shoes instead of high heels and where she used the bike instead of a cab or - heaven forbid- a limousine charted by her publishing company. Cabot Cove was a good game of chess after a long day.

She opened her eyes, stretched, and then she saw the phone on the side table next to her. She had promised Seth to call him at least once during her book tour and with a hint of a bad conscious she realized she hadn't done so till now. She already heard him complaining about her lax attitude towards her promise, but the truth was she barely had the time to visit the bathroom. Should she call him now? It was late and he was probably already asleep. Her hesitation faded the longer she thought about him. He picked up instantly, as if he had been waiting at the phone all day. The thought made her smile – and terrified her at the same time.

"Seth? It's me."

"I know," he grumped. "Who else would call me at this time of night? Where are you?"

"Chicago," she answered with a sigh.

He snorted. His dislike for big cities was no secret. "I bet you just came back from one of those fancy black tie dinners with boring speeches and too much cheap champagne."

"Something like that," she admitted amused. "The speaker was the representative of a representative."

He snorted again and Jessica chuckled. "How was your day?" she asked.

"Average," he replied sourly. "A mixture of chickenpox and corns. Nothing fancy that compares to black tie dinners and champagne."

Jessica knew he was telling her that he missed her – in his very own way. He was unhappy with her traveling across the country just as he was proud of her for being a bestselling author.

"I'll be home soon, Seth," she tried to reassure him.

He chuckled, "You mean, you will be back soon unless you won't meet an old friend who happens to know someone who died from unnatural causes and ends up in jail."

"Don't be so cranky," she scolded him. "I'll be home on Thursday and I expect dinner from you on Friday. It is your turn, you know."

"I know, it's my turn, woman. I already have picked out a recipe that will knock you off your socks."

"I can barely wait."

"Aye... it's quite lonely and boring here without you, you know. Mort has a bandaged hand, because he's been sitting to much on it." He cleared his throat and she wished she could see his face. His words of affection were rare and she treasured them more like any of her countless awards.

"I miss you too, you know," she answered warmly. "I could use someone like you around while doing these promotion tours."

"Why would you need me? People don't want to see a cranky old Yankee doctor telling them like it is. Besides, I bet these fellas from your publishing company answer to every wish of yours within a heartbeat."

"Oh Seth! You know that not all that glisters is gold."

"Surely not...," he fell silent and for a minute he didn't say a word. She was almost afraid that he had hung up on her, when he spoke again. His voice was lower, almost somber.

"Thursday you say?"

"Yes. Only five days left."

"I will pick you up at the airport."

"You are my guarding angel."

"I certainly am, woman... Jess?"

"Yes?"

"Take care of yourself."

"You too, Seth."

A few minutes later her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep with a smile on her face. Calling home had that effect on her.


End file.
